


Gingerbread House

by Lynds



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Baking, Child Injury, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Logan is a Softie (X-Men), M/M, Winter, doctor hank, hank is a bamf, in the context of Laura's... interesting childhood, injured laura, logan is the best dad, poor Logan, poor laura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Exhausted and injured, Logan picks up the scent of warm spices in the snowy woods. Is this too good to be true, or has he finally found somewhere safe for himself and Laura?
Relationships: Logan (X-Men)/Hank McCoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22
Collections: X-Men X-Traordinaire's Mini Holiday Fic Exchange 2020





	Gingerbread House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IreneADonovan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/gifts).



Logan stopped and leaned against a fallen tree, gasping for breath. He shifted Laura’s body in his arms, cradling her close to him. He thought he’d left the bastards far behind, but he couldn’t guarantee it… he couldn’t stay anywhere for too long.

Laura would heal. He refused to think otherwise, it was unacceptable. But they had to get to safety, some cave or bolt hole, somewhere they could rest. There would be more battles to fight. 

There were always more battles to fight.

He dared a glance downwards. Her little face, frowning even in unconsciousness, was pale and her face bloody. He reached up to touch the gash on her forehead, but couldn’t bring himself to check its progress. The Wolverine, the beast who brought death to so many, was squeamish at the sight of his daughter’s blood. He tugged her hood up a little higher and looked away. To take stock and make a plan, he told himself.

His lungs were burning still, but the pain was starting to subside. He could smell the crisp pine resin leaking from the trunk, not just his own panic.

His nostrils flared. There was something else, something unexpected. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves. Sugar.

Where there was sugar, there was energy to heal. He turned a full circle, taking his bearings with scent and sight and hearing, adjusted Laura in his arms, and leaped onto and over the tree trunk, towards the smell of food.

The source of the smell wasn’t far, but in his state, it seemed it was far enough to exhaust him once more. He leaned heavily against a huge pine at the edge of a little clearing, breathing in the sweet, warm smell of baking hungrily. 

Fucking ridiculous. This was something out of a fairy tale, a little log cabin deep in the snowy woods, calling to gullible children with the smell of cookies. His mouth watered. The worst thing was, it was fucking working.

He was torn. On the one hand, he and Laura desperately needed time, warmth and energy, and it looked like this place had all three. On the other, it was way too good to be true. Logan was just beginning to back away when a twig snapped.

He dropped to a crouch with a feral snarl, hunching over Laura as his claws shot out. His heart sank as he saw the blue mutant in front of him, sharp teeth, muscular furry arms and yellow eyes. This wouldn’t be as easy as a dumb human with a gun.

“Who the fuck are you,” growled the mutant.

“I’m no-one,” Logan grunted. “If you back off, I’ll be outta your hair, no harm, no foul.”

The guy glanced down at Laura and Logan’s lip curled, crouching lower over her to shield her with his body. “You’re hurt, both of you,” the mutant said, straightening up and holding out both hands, palm up. “I’m a doctor, I can help.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

The mutant rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I didn’t always look like this. You want me to try and stop the bleeding or you want to run around half naked some more?”

Logan growled, a rumble of frustration. “You hurt her and I’ll kill you.”

“So you should,” the mutant said, and gestured towards the cabin. “Shall we?”

***

Logan stood guard by the window while the mutant - Hank - tended to Laura. At last he stood and stretched his back. “She’s resting,” he said, and Logan appreciated the way he looked down at her with nothing but kindness and care in his expression. “She’s healing quickly - hell of a healing factor she’s got there, by the way - so it’s mostly just exhaustion. She’ll need a lot of food when she wakes up, and plenty of sleep.” 

Logan leaned down over Laura and brushed the hair back off her face. “Yeah, time and food ain’t things we usually have in abundance.”

“You’ve had a rough time of it, haven’t you?” Hank said gently.

“She deserves better,” Logan agreed.

Hank chuckled. “I meant you, too.” He gestured at Logan’s shirt, blood-soaked and riddled with bullet holes. “Looks like you might need some energy too.”

“I’ll eat when she does.”

Hank rolled his eyes. “There’s more than enough for her. Now come into the damn kitchen and have some cookies, will you?”

Logan raised his eyebrows in amusement as Hank stalked off into the kitchen. He sure as hell wasn’t used to being bossed around like that. He found he didn’t mind. He followed Hank into the surprisingly modern kitchen and leaned against the counter. “Mind if I have a drink?” 

“Go ahead.” Hank gestured to the water filter. “I’ll make us coffee in a minute, to go with the lebkuchen, but you could do with some rehydration, I’m sure.”

Logan poured himself a mug of water before Hank had finished speaking, and then another, downing them almost in a frenzy. He sighed and sank back with the third clutched to his chest like a shield. “Leb-what?”

Hank looked bashful and gestured down at the cookies in front of him, little rounded brown circles dripping with glaze. “My friend’s partner is German. I think he only started accepting me as a person after I asked him for his recipe.”

Logan frowned. “Mutant-phobic?”

“Not at all,” Hank laughed. “He’s metallokinetic himself. He’s just a misanthropic bastard. Don’t know how he ended up with Charles.”

Logan snorted. “I can’t judge,” he said. “I’m not a fan of people either.”

“Well,” said Hank, handing him a cookie. “You’re doing OK from where I’m sat.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. Instead, he took a bite, and only just stopped himself from moaning obscenely. Cinnamon, cloves, ginger and almond burst in his mouth, warming him from the inside out. “Laura is never gonna want to leave,” he said, licking his fingers.

Hank smiled and looked down. “Well,” he said bashfully. “You’re both welcome as long as you like. I’ll even bake other cookies.”

Logan took another cookie. Later, days later, he would taste the spices on Hank’s lips, and the warmth would sink further into him, where words like family lived.


End file.
